


Reading and Writing

by CanonCannon



Series: Miscommunication [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Angst, Awkward Sexual Situations, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-24 04:38:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9702365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CanonCannon/pseuds/CanonCannon
Summary: “I’m taming you, you know. Slowly but surely,” Alex teases as they pull their clothes back on.Paul frowns, buttoning up his shirt with his back to his friend. The last twenty minutes had been the opposite of tame.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Random drabble that precedes Free Space.

“I’m taming you, you know. Slowly but surely,” Alex teases as they pull their clothes back on. 

Paul frowns, buttoning up his shirt with his back to his friend. The last twenty minutes had been the opposite of tame. His ass is going to ache for days.

He rarely bottoms. This time, he’d begged for it.

The back of his head is a bit tender, too. Alex is strong enough to throw Paul around some, and he’s always extremely enthusiastic when the scout agrees to be the receiving partner. Once Paul had opened himself, the larger man had scooped him up and practically slammed him against a wall, entering him a little too quickly.

And when Paul asked, repeatedly, for it to be harder, rougher, Alex had done that, too.

Shit, the nurse was supposed to be working, and even if that currently only meant babysitting a couple of elderly residents with bad colds, the fact that he’d interrupted his friend’s duties doesn’t sit well with Paul.

Truthfully, now that he’s clearheaded, he’s more than a little chagrined at how obvious his need had been. He hadn’t even bothered to think of a pretext for hunting the nurse down and cornering him in the middle of the day.

Alex had been confused at first, worried that something had gone wrong because Paul was supposed to be helping Maggie teach a group to shoot at their makeshift gun range just outside the gate. Paul had barely managed to stumble through a five word explanation (“Everything’s fine, got rained out”) before sticking his tongue down Alex’s throat.

Now Alex wants to talk, though, and that’s definitely not what Paul signed up for. Turning, he sees that the other man hasn’t even gotten his shirt back on yet. “I don’t know where Maggie and Sasha are… we should definitely get out of here,” the scout sighs, massaging the back of his head with one hand.

Because yeah, they’re in Maggie and Sasha’s bedroom.

None of this is Alex’s fault. When the blond had groped his ass and thrust forward at the same moment, lifting Paul’s hips enough that his erection rubbed against Alex’s half-hard dick, Paul had dragged him to the closest bedroom like a caveman. He doubts the women would be too thrilled with him for using their room like a seedy motel.

Alex’s room is just upstairs. Invading Maggie and Sasha’s space was unnecessary, indiscreet, inconsiderate. Out of character for him.

Paul fights the urge to escape. Alex is supposed to _be_ the escape, damn it.

So he stays, rummages around and finds Alex’s top for him, lets his eyes linger on chiseled abs as they disappear under the soft orange sweater. He wonders what the other man even sees in him, truthfully—Alex is almost too handsome to be real, and compared to Paul’s lean frame he looks like a body builder.

Pulling on his shoes, the nurse continues, “I mean it, Jesus. It’s… it’s good. The last time you spent this long inside the gates was when you sprained your ankle. And you’re- you’re different with me, too. The emotion and passion and… wow.” He grins, revealing dimples and bright white teeth. “Seems like you’re settling down. Finally.”

_Shit._

Paul has been very clear with Alex on what this is and what it isn’t, but since the war ended he’s been ravenous for sex—and it’s been good, so good, definitely the best sex they’ve had in their months of being fuck buddies.

The larger man comes up behind him and wraps him up a hug that feels like a straight jacket. “Relax, ok? I know how you are. We don’t have to make a big deal about it. Just… I wanted you to know that I’m happy, that’s all.”

Shit shit _shit_.

Guilt itches in Paul’s chest.

—

When Paul gets back to his trailer, Daryl is engrossed in a book.

It’s official, the universe is fucking with Paul Rovia. He just had a five-star orgasm, for fuck’s sake, but Daryl is _reading_. The scout hasn’t seen him read before.

Daryl is also all cleaned up—well, Paul knew he would be—with damp hair soaking into the pillow, looking relaxed and completely focused on Paul’s copy of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone.

Of course he looks relaxed. The man had done some very significant relaxing in the shower less than an hour ago. But thinking about that is the last thing Paul needs; he can’t very well turn around and find Alex again.

The morning had been a disaster. He'd been keeping an eye on the woods and road, watching for roamers or unfriendly strangers while Maggie taught some of Hilltop's teenagers and less experienced adults to shoot. Rain and lightening began seemingly out of nowhere, chasing them back inside the gates before they even really got started.

Paul had still been wearing his earplugs from the range when he walked into the trailer. The bathroom door had been slightly ajar, so naturally he’d pushed inside for a towel… only to find Daryl standing behind the clear shower curtain, facing the spray and giving Paul one hell of a view: a broad chest, strong pale thighs, shoulders that could make a man cry. Eyes shut tight, mouth pressed into a straight line. One bicep flexing slightly as it moved.

The scout had backed out of the bathroom quickly, but not quickly enough to stop his eyes from flicking downward to where Daryl's large hand was rubbing over his hard dick.

"How's the boyfriend?"

Paul startles out of his thoughts guiltily. “Don’t have one," he says, possibly more heatedly than the situation warrants.

"Mmm," Daryl hums. "I ain't a moron."

"I'm sure you're not," Paul grouses.

“Might want to look in the mirror,” the hunter replies, an obvious smirk in his voice.

Aw, fuck. He doesn’t have to look. Now that Daryl mentions it, the scout vividly remembers Alex sucking at his neck like a Dementor with bad aim.

Flinging off his coat in annoyance, Paul sits at his desk and pulls out a pen and notebook. It's time to stop fucking a guy who has feelings for him when he knows damn well he’ll never return those feelings.

Jacking off in the shower is good enough for Daryl. Paul will just have to give it a try.

 


End file.
